The Many Questions of Zora Lancaster
by we're all squares here
Summary: In which Zora asks her mother questions throughout her life. It's funny how they all relate to her father.


I know what you all are going to say. Oh, I stole this from Frocked/Andy Incognito. Well, for those of us that are new here, we're the same person. And I really liked this one-shot so I'm transferring it. So, deal with that. And for those critics out there, the original copy was deleted by moi so it can be republished onto this account. :P

**LapdogDaVinci **was still the beta for this story. That hasn't changed.

* * *

**The Many Questions of Zora Lancaster  
One-Shot  
By Andy**

* * *

Zora raced to her house, completely aware of the small crowd that was chasing her. The ache in her side caused her to slow down, but the bullies that followed close behind wasn't nearly as fast and nimble as the five-year-old. She shouldn't have to be going through this, bullies and the lot of it, but she was.

She caught sight of the dull yellow paint. In all reality, it was bright and startling- a happy color. But she'd gotten used to it. Her footsteps thundered from a distance, her mind being yards away from her body, intent on getting home. Her footsteps weren't muffled by the grass anymore, as she had reached the sidewalk. She briefly thought about stopping, just catching her breath. Then she heard the shouts, the jeers. So she shot on.

She never noticed the crowd move away as she reached the front door. She didn't pay attention to the front door that was purposely yanked open because of her. And her little five-year-old mind, though her being a genius, never noticed the tracks of dirt she made. Zora would have time to notice those things later. But for now, she kept running.

Zora never stopped running until she reached the warm embrace of her mother. She clasped her hands around her mother's waist and hung on, lost in time. She felt herself being lifted, by her mother, probably. Only to be hugged tighter than usual.

After what had seemed like hours, but was only minutes, the Zora and her mother broke apart when the front door was slammed. Being the natural five-year-old that she was, she hid behind her mother's skirt, afraid. They stood there for a while, frozen in both fear and shock, until a loud voice cursed.

They watched Mr. Lancaster walk through the hallway and disappear into the master bedroom with another curse and a loud door slam. He was a proud man, someone that didn't let anyone say no. But he was also cold hearted, and he scared Zora daily with his cursing.

"Mommy, is daddy mad?" Zora asked, looking up at her mother- her curiosity breaking through her fear.

Her mother looked down at her daughter. She saw an innocent little girl, just scared of what will happen next. She bit on her lip as she tried to fabricate a response. Unlucky for her that Zora was a genius. "Oh, that? Your father is just probably mad at what happened at work. Go play outside, okay?"

She hated lying to her daughter. But sometimes, white lies were necessary. Zora left unwillingly, as she headed towards her room to find something productive to do.

* * *

Zora sat on the dining room table and bit her lip as she tried to focus on her math homework. On a normal day, she would have finished quickly. But not today. Today, her mind was off, preoccupied, and her thought kept wandering. She forced herself to focus on her math homework when her mother came in with their dinner.

Mrs. Lancaster smiled at her only child, then glanced at the worksheet Zora had been working on.

"Hey, sweetie. Need any help?"

"Nah. It's alright, mom. I just can't focus."

Zora was ten now, in fifth grade with the big kids. She was proud to be a big kid herself, but that never stopped the connection her and her mother had together.

"Honey, it's Friday. Go outside and play. Do this tomorrow."

"No, it's fine, mom. I'd rather finish it now."

Just that second, Mr. Lancaster burst into the room, yelling and cursing at the two women. They stood in shock, half waiting for the man to leave. Zora cowered, trying to hide behind her mother.

After some curses flung directly at Zora's mother, the father finally left the house in rage. He knocked off many pieces of furniture that Zora will never forgive her father for destroying. (Such as her many trophies and that vase that she knew her mother loved).

"Hey, mom, does dad hate me?" Zora said, finally breaking the awkward silence. Her mother stood there, shocked. This was a question she could not answer. Or would not.

"No. Why in the world would you think that?" She said, saying the first thing that came to mind.

"No reason. He just seemed so... angry."

"That's probably nothing. Fix up the table. So we can eat dinner." Her mother murmured, speaking low but fast. She was trying to change the subject and prayed that her genius of a daughter would not notice.

"Alright."

She watched her daughter slowly get up to put her books away. She, herself returned to the kitchen, but kept and ear open for any sounds. Slowly, Mrs. Lancaster stirred the soup.

"I'm done fixing the table now, mom." Zora called from the doorway.

"Thanks, honey. Come help me with the dinner."

"Alright..." She walked over to help scoop the soup into the bowls.

She was careful with walking towards the table, trying hard not to spill any drop of soup. Because Zora didn't like to disappoint her mother. Not her mother.

"Mommy? Daddy's not going to eat with us?" She asked skeptically. Not that she couldn't care less. Her father never cared for her anyway.

"I guess not. Let me put his plate back."

"Nah, I'll do it."

Her mother stared after her, then the door that her husband left through. He's not here... Again. _Well if anyone's going to raise a child, it's me. I don't need his help._

* * *

Zora came home from Condor Studios and slumped down at the kitchen counter. It had been another rough day, she forgot all her lines and she even accidentally let the Mackenzie Dorks take their parking space. She kicked her book bag across the room, hoping to release her anger. It didn't work.

"Well, well, well. I see someone's angry today." Zora's head snapped up and followed the trail of her book-bag. It had, apparently, landed on her mothers feet. She didn't notice before, but she reluctantly approached her mother, eyes down, and grabbed the bag, and everything she had spilled in the process.

"What happened, sweetie." Her mother said, clearly concerned.

"Nothing."

"Zora, darling, I know you well enough for there to be 'nothing' going on. Now tell me."

"Mom, it's, uh, been a long day. I messed up on my lines and... I'm going to take a nap. I'll be up before dinner, I promise." She said before darting out to her room. Zora wanted ever so desperately to make her mother forget all about her problems. But, because her mother is indeed a Lancaster, Mrs. Lancaster wasn't so easily swayed.

Zora laid in bed, waiting. She listened to her mother sit down on their couch, making the springs bounce squeakily. Someday, I'll buy another couch. A better one for my mom.

Then, for a moment, it a quiet. Zora strained her ears, trying to hear a sound, any sound. Then she heard yelling. The door muted the shouts, but she heard fine.

"Do you think I care about her?"

"You should! She's your daughter!"

"Yeah, she's my daughter. Not yours!"

"I have every right to her as you do, and you know it!"

"No, you don't! She's my child, not yours. She did not come from you, and you fucking know it!"

Zora blinked back angry tears as she tried to process her father's words. Her mother wasn't really her mother. But her father was her father. Then who was my mother?

She heard the door slam shut again, an act that has occurred numerous times in her life. It was a goodbye sign from her father, one that meant he was going to get drunk again and come home at around midnight the next day. Today, it was a sign that it was fine for Zora to go out and ask her mother a question.

She stood at the doorway to her room and watched in silence as her mother stared blankly at the television. She'd seen this face before. It was the face of confusion. And hurt as well as anger. A face that was composed of many, many feelings- most none to pleasant.

"Mom?" Zora called softly, watching her mother's expression.

"Yeah, sweetie? You woke up from your nap?" Zora could tell that there was something her mother was hiding from her. Something about her mother's expression was scared for the fact that Zora might have heard what her father had said.

"Uhm, yeah, Mom... Can I ask you a question?"

"Huh? What... what is it, dear?"

"Mom, does dad love me?" Her mother sighed in relief, thankful her daughter didn't ask who her real mother was.

"Why, of course he does. Why in the world would you think otherwise?"

"Nothing." She mumbled, before going back to bed without another word.

Whether she knew it or not, Zora always thought her mother was hiding something from her. But she never thought her mother would be lying to her.

* * *

Zora came home from Condor Studios with great news. Mr. Condor was going to make her the star of the next big movie. This was going to be her big break, her career was going to take off from here. At the door to their house, she already heard the shouts. Not that it was a surprise, of course. The shouts were getting more and more frequent as she grew up.

She paused at the door, contemplating in her sixteen year old mind whether to open the door or to just run far away. Just as she was about to open the door, it flew open, and she was face to face with the stocky frame that was her father. He swerved his arm and threw her across the pavement, probably as a harsher gesture for 'Excuse me, please'.

She sat on the pavement, dizzy with pain, and watched the blur of her father walk off to the nearest bar. Her left cheek was burning with pain from the slap, and she had difficulty standing. Ambling slowly to find her mother, she saw someone crouched on the floor, shuddering and moaning in pain.

"Mother?" Zora cried out in shock. She had never seen her mother so... weak before. Not like this.

Her mother seemed to sense her presence, for she stood of slowly, shocking in what must only be pain. Patches of blue and black colored her otherwise pale skin. The numerous bruises made Zora want to cry. And the get revenge.

"What happened?" Zora finally said, addressing the distressed mother for once, and breaking the silence along with it.

"Oh, your father and I just got into a fight. Nothing major."

"..." Zora was stunned by her mother's answer. Nothing major. What a lie.

"Mom!"

"What?"

"Mom, stop it with the 'protecting me' crap. This wasn't just a fight, and you know it. You're covered in bruises for crying out loud!"

"Dear, someday... Someday, you'll understand. But not today."

She watched her mother get up slowly and walk to her bedroom. Zora stood in half shock and half disbelief. _What. The. Hell?_

* * *

Zora was clothed black as she was greeted with a crowd of people. She kept her eyes locked on the ground, not wanting to meat anyone's eyes. They had tried to make conversation with her, but she didn't want to talk. Not just yet.

"Hey, Zora." She heard someone say. She didn't feel like talking, not now- not yet. So she walked away, leaving the person standing flabbergasted at her action. Zora wasn't looking for comfort. She was looking for her mom. But, sadly, her mom wasn't anywhere near.

"Zora! I know your mad and sad about you mom, but I just wanna say that I feel for you." Zora heard someone say. That voice was too familiar.

"No, Sonny, you don't understand." Her voice was deathly, a voice that ended conversations. She looked at the twenty-five-year-old brunette that she had gotten so close to in the past. She tried to move away, biting her lip to fight back the angry tears that was just dying to spill out, but Sonny's hand gripped her shoulders. Funerals were for tears, but Zora was stronger than tears, or so she thought.

"Yes, I _do_ understand," Sonny said, pleading with her, "My father dies too. I know what you're going through! I was sad too, but then I realized that... you just need to let it all out." Sonny had expected to see the tears. She expected Zora to run and hug her. Instead, Zora shrugged off Sonny's arm and walked away.

She needed some alone time. It was simple as that. But, with so many people wanting to comfort her and so many memories stinging her thoughts, it was hard to just get away with it all. Most of all, she wanted her mother. But she couldn't have that. Her mother was gone.

She made her way to the coffin. Midnight blue and silver, her mother's favorite colors.

"Mom, I thought you said it was all going to be alright. But," Zora whispered solemnly with a sigh, "But, now... Now I'm alone. I don't even have Dad."

She blinked once as a single teardrop fell down her cheek and landed on the coffin's glass. She peered in and looked at how beautiful her mother was. Her mother's hair was brushed elegantly around her and she was wearing a simple dress. In her hands were flowers that Zora herself had picked. It was a beautiful sight, but all Zora could see was sadness.

She knew that, for once in her life, Zora won't get an answer. Not that she's been given answers before either, not entirely. Maybe she'll never know the answers to the questions that she had wanted to ask for a long time. _If only mom was alive. She'd answer the questions._

Because, in truth, Zora's mother was more than an ordinary mom. She loved her child, as any mother would, but protected Zora from things that she should have been exposed to. She felt the need to lie to Zora, too keep her little daughter from harm. Zora will never know this, but her mother's love will live on forever.

Now, you may ask who was Zora's real mother. Truth is, no one knows. Not the father, nor the mother. Honestly, the real mother probably doesn't know either. But, in theory, Zora couldn't have asked for a better mother than the one she already has- or _had_.

To answer your questions, Zora's father wasn't always the drunk bastard that Zora thought him to be. He was rather decent, and had a clean reputation. He turned to his best friend- the woman Zora knows as her mother- for help. They wed, to help protect the reputation. Mind you, back then it wasn't all that nice to get a women pregnant- especially if they man and the woman do not know each other and they are not married.

Zora was found at her father's doorsteps, bundled up with care. The only reason the father took her in was out of pity. That, and the fact that Zora was his child.

Zora's mother is long gone now, but she will continue to stay in Zora's memories. And it will live on in the stories Zora tells her children. And her children's children. And so on, and so forth.

You might ask how she died. But, truthfully, no one knows but Zora. Some say she died of sadness, that Zora was the only one that kept her alive. Some may say that she was ill to begin with and all the stress just made it worse. But, through all the pestering and bothering, Zora remains quiet.

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This story was just a little one-shot on Zora and her mother's relationship. Yeah, it's rather sad- I know. But that's all in the essence, me thinks. :)

**Many thanks**  
inuBrandy1101 | Cascading Rainbows | HunnyABee | Daddy'sGirl123 | T-Kiwi02 | Always Juliet | kaylinwriter14

**for reviewing in the original publication.**


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